Shattered Glass(139)

“Nikolaj tells them he has the evidence," Luis continued, “But he’s in custody. And then Peter goes straight to you when the kid is arrested. Next thing they know, the kid is at your house and guarded by the FBI. They can’t get to him. They can’t get to the brother. Until the kid leaves to see his shrink.”

I knew the rest. “Were all of them involved?” I didn’t want to hear that Dave had been involved in this disgusting event. Everything I believed in the world would have come crashing down on me if I learned he was capable of this monstrousness.

“You want to know about Buchanan?” Luis asked. I kept eye contact and waited, angrily contorting a paperclip during the interim. Luis pulled a package of Mexican taffy out of his pocket and offered it to me. I chose a green one and stabbed the pointy end of the paper clip viciously into it. “Haven’t heard his whole story,” my partner continued. “From what I hear, he was funneling money only. They didn’t tell him about the girl’s death or the illegals until after you got suspended.”

At which point Dave came to spy on me. Although it was good to know he wasn’t the worst of the worst, I was ashamed to admit I might have stood by my best friend even if he’d been more involved. I had my limits, but did they stop at cover-ups? Which made me consider something more relevant to my future. Could I ever be a good cop after this?





52:14

Fifty-two hours, fourteen minutes. That was how long it took for the doctors to move Peter from ICU to his own room. Of those hours, I spent less than thirty minutes alone with him. Alone meaning Zhavra and Darryl were either asleep, home or down in the cafeteria.

We spoke very little. Peter was tired, and the times where he stayed awake for extended periods, I gave to his mother. In return she gave me dirty looks and informed me I would not be “dragging her son with me to hell.”

I responded in my typical mature and professional manner. “Surely not for just the one blow job. I don’t even think I was that good. It’s because I swallowed, isn’t it?”

She spat something in Russian at me. It only made me flash her every tooth in my head.

“Austin,” Peter warned. I winced, refusing to turn around to look at him until Zhavra brushed by me with her arms open.

“Petya, you are awake.” She kissed his forehead. I’d seen him do that exact same thing to Cai. The memory made my heart contract.

“I’ll go hang out in the waiting room.” I worried that Peter was listening to her about going to hell. Was he rethinking the last two weeks now that things had settled? Was I? And what did it say about my current mental state that ‘settled’ was the term I used to define where we were now?

“Wait, Austin. Mamma, it’s nearly ten and you’ve been here all day. Go get some sleep.”

“I do not think you should be alone with this man, Petya.”

“I’m twenty years old, mamma,” was all Peter said. I wasn’t sure why I was on the receiving end of her glare that time.

“I see you early tomorrow.” She kissed him again, her lips lingering on his cheek and her eyes closing. A wave of guilt passed over me when her hand slipped into his and squeezed. The other hand shook slightly as she swept it over his forehead.

“I can take you to your hotel, Mrs. Dyachenko,” I offered.

She considered me with a hard look, then her wrinkles smoothed. “Thank you, but Petya wishes to speak with you. I will have a cab.” Gently taking her purse from the side table, she headed for the door, stopping next to me. Without turning, she said, “You may pick me up. Early. Do you understand early?”

“Between noon and one?” I grinned.

“He’s kidding, mamma,” Peter interrupted and sighed at me after she had left. “Do you have to antagonize her?”

“I’m an ass. It’s what I do. Does she have to act like I’m going to toss you on your stomach and assrape you in front of her?” I sat to his side and dragged a finger over his hand.

“Pretending you’re not thinking about it?”

“You look like shit. Fucking you is not in the cards. I was thinking blow jobs.”

“Can you sit on the other side?” He moved his hand away.

“Why?”

“You know why. Can you just do it?”

“I don’t give a fuck about the colostomy bag, Peter. It’s temporary anyway.”

“What if it’s not temporary?”

“Then I guess the rest of my life will be resigned to doggy style sex.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them. “I mean however long…when we’re…that wasn’t a fucking proposal.”